


He Told Me I Was Holy

by hesterbyrde



Series: What Carries Weight [9]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom Phil Coulson, F/M, Fingering, Hair-pulling, Heavy BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, Porn, Rape Fetish, Sex, Spoilers for Season 2, Sub Melinda May, Top Phil Coulson, Vaginal Fingering, bottom melinda May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil returns to his room after a hellish first day back on base in the wake of the takeover by Gonzales. He doesn't expect to find Melinda there, waiting on her knees. Nor does he expect what she asks of him.</p>
<p>Takes place during 02x20: Scars and contains spoilers for Season 2 up to that point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Told Me I Was Holy

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during 02x20: Scars and contains spoilers for Season 2 up to that point.
> 
> This fic contains material falling under the heading of Consensual Non-Consent, or rape fetish. This is happens between two consenting and sober adults, and everything that occurs is safe, sane and consensual. While it happens "offscreen" consensual non-consent has been heavily discussed by the couple in question, and the safe-word/stoplight system is used. This is not meant to be a how-to guide for consensual non-consent. Please do your research, and please read at your own risk.
> 
> Fic title is from the song "Hold Me Down" by Halsey.

Phil was so mentally exhausted by the time he reached his room it took him three tries to get his code right to unlock his bedroom door. The blows had just kept coming the past few days. Having to admit his failures as Director, and capitulate to being advised by Gonzales and his cronies, or risk losing the base and what he had left of his team. Mack deciding to leave. The break-in by the Inhumans on the ship. Skye all but declaring her defection to the Inhumans and exposing May's secret from Bahrain in the process.

And then the argument with May in the hangar. Followed quickly and brutally by her swinging her vote in favor of Gonzales going to treat with the Inhumans instead of Coulson.

Phil rested his forehead on the door frame, unable to even will himself inside at first as it all washed over him anew. He wasn't sure he could handle coming back to this. His room empty and quiet. The thought crossed his mind just briefly that he could wander down to Hunter's room but... something about that seemed disingenuous. And besides, Hunter had made short work of figuring out Phil and May were together... sort of. He would know that they had sort of broken up now. And he was no where near ready to talk about it yet. No matter how good the man's whiskey was.

Finally, and thankfully before anyone passed by in the hall, Phil found the strength to heft the door open. The sight that awaited him inside nearly rooted him to the floor in shock, but he managed to slip into his room and close the door before completely freezing.

Melinda was kneeling by the foot of her bed, body pooled against the bedpost and head bowed so her dark hair shadowed her face. She didn't make a move when he entered, not even to look up. Only the slow rise and fall of her chest gave any proof that she wasn't a statue. 

Phil stood with his back pressed against the door as his mind raced over what to do. He could scarce draw enough breath to whisper her name.

“Melinda.”

She looked up but didn't answer. Her gaze, grief-stained and hollow like it had been in Bahrain, spoke volumes. She just swallowed audibly, shifting to sit more upright on her knees as he crossed the room to her. The mix of sadness and fear that painted her lovely face broke Phil's heart and he reached out to touch her, but she shrank back from him. He seized, hand freezing mid gesture. She had never withdrawn from him. Ever. He had whipped her. Manhandled her. Poured molten wax across her skin, and she'd never shied away from him. He cautiously took her chin in both palms as he slid to his knees in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered shakily.

“Should I go?” she asked in return, her voice jagged with still unshed tears.

“No! No, I just...” Phil swallowed and licked his lips as he caressed her damp cheeks with his thumbs. He was far too late to stop these tears from falling, as he had stopped so many before. “I just didn't expect to see you here... again. After...” he fumbled for the right words but he couldn't find them before Melinda's face crumpled.

“I'm sorry.” she wailed, loud enough to make Phil a little paranoid that they might be heard. She took a shaking breath and rallied her self control enough to lower her voice. “I'm so sorry I...”

She pitched forward and Phil caught her, fitting her against his chest with practiced ease. “Shhh... Melinda, you don't have to be sorry. It's alright. It's...” The words tumbled from his mouth before he even realized they were true. He wasn't angry with her. With the situation, yes. And what it had forced her to do. But never with her.

She pulled back and stared up into his face, clearly not convinced of her absolution. “I doubted.” she confessed, brokenly. “I... I never thought I could doubt you. Not really. I've worried about you, and questioned you, but even if I ultimately disagreed, I didn't doubt that your decision was best. You would find a way to make it best. Always. But...” she paused to give a saturated sniff. “After I helped you escape, the questions about your fitness to lead just... they just kept coming! And I didn't know what to say. And when I found out about Theta Protocol and Andrew... I started to wonder...” she pressed her knuckles to her lips, clearly horrified at what she was about to say. “I started to wonder if they were right. Because maybe you've lost perspective with Skye, but how I felt about being kept in the dark let me know that I've lost perspective with you.” A new wave of tears poured down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crisp fabric of his dress shirt.

Phil held her, willing himself not to remember the mirror of this moment in Bahrain. He had no wisdom for her now like he had then. Just his very fresh wounds from betrayal after betrayal and disappointment upon disappointment.

“It's okay.” he whispered half-heartedly, but she knew he was lying and it made her sob all the harder, shaking her head where it was pressed against his shoulder.

And it was then that a moment of cold clarity struck Phil. He pulled back a little and looked at her. And more importantly, at where she had met him. Kneeling at the foot of his bed, crying like a penitent at an altar. She didn't want forgiveness. That could come from a conversation in his office. She wanted...

“What is it you want, Melinda?” he asked finally. 

She looked up at him, no longer hiding her swollen, tear-stained face. He could see her hesitating. Thinking of what to ask and how to ask it.

“Use me.” the words were like the tolling of a bell in the silence of the bedroom. “I want you to use me and... remind me what it means to be yours. To be loyal, and faithful, and... obedient. And patient. Because... because I think I thought that was over. Or at least part of me did and that's why I acted like a caged animal instead of the thinking, calculating S.H.I.E.L.D. agent that I am.”

Phil went very still around her, but tried his best not to let the sudden rush of apprehension flood across his face. “How do you want me to use you?”

“However you want.” she replied with dangerous simplicity.

“Are you giving me permission to... force you?” he asked, choosing his words very carefully.

“Yes.”

“I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Given the circumstances.”

“You said yourself that the possibility of... rougher treatment would probably come as a result of exhausting emotional circumstances outside of the bedroom.”

“I did say that. I just...”

“And we've talked about this.” she cut him off. ”Our boundaries. What we want.” 

He nodded stiffly, his lips thinning with thought. He stared intently at a patch of fabric beside their knees, and Melinda reached out to turn his head towards her.

“I defected to the other side.” she said with quiet force, spitting out the words like they were made of bitter gall. “I didn't wait for you. I betrayed your trust and left to join the other side.” She leaned up, palms on either side of his face and kissed him, hard. “Drag me back.”

He took both her hands in his and kissed them each in turn. “You're sure?”

She fixed him with a steely stare. “Yes.”

Phil took a slow, deep breath as he searched her face for any apprehension. Satisfied that he found none, he whispered. “Then tell me your safe word, please.”

She nodded but didn't immediately reply. They stayed still like that for a moment longer, kneeling opposite each other and exchanging little touches. Phil ran his hands through her hair, and she caressed his chest. He could feel her relaxing with relief and exhaustion and he wished he felt the same. Part of him didn't want to do this. Not because he didn't find the idea of forcing her enticing. Quite the opposite was true if the growing tent in his suit pants was any indication. But part of him wanted to just gather her into his arms and soothe away every hurt she had suffered. Especially those caused by him, inadvertently or otherwise, over these past few days. But that wasn't what she wanted or needed, and the more he thought about it, the more he found it might not be what he needed either.

Melinda raised up on her knees a tiny bit and kissed him again, sweet and gentle. Like a kiss pressed onto a holy relic. “Serendipity.” she whispered against his lips, and his hands, which had been carefully carding through her tresses, tightened painfully in her hair.

A primal sound tore itself from Melinda's throat, half ecstatic moan and half pained shout. Phil stood smoothly, wrenching her by the hair so that she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. “Not a sound out of you.” he felt himself tremble at the darkness in his words, but instead of cowering from it, he let it fuel him. “Not a sound but your safe word unless I ask you a question. Understood?”

She nodded stiffly, wincing at his grip.

“Understood?” he snarled. “That would be a question.”

“Yes!” she answered frantically. “Yes, sir!”

“You go where I put you. You do what I tell you. And you take what I give. Yes?”

“Yes, sir!”

With that he hauled her to her feet by the roots of her hair, taking a cruel enjoyment in the strangled sound of her breathing as she fought the urge to make noise. “Take your clothes off.” he ordered brusquely, as he released her roughly and stalked off to his closet. He quickly rid himself of his tie and suit jacket, and fetched a towel and a bottle of water before returning to Melinda.

She stood, naked and shivering at the foot of his bed, her eyes cast down at the carpet. As he stalked over to her, she fluidly sank to her knees. He stopped just out of her reach, feeling a cruel smirk twist across his lips. “Why are you kneeling? I don't recall telling you to kneel.” he asked, letting a delicious cold edge creep into his voice. It felt good in a way that made shame burn in his gut, but he didn't stop. She needed this and she would stop him if she needed to. And if he was being honest, he needed it too. Even if it frightened him. 

“I...” she glanced up at him, searching his face to see if the remark was a trick to get her to talk. He gestured blandly for her to continue. “I thought you might want me to suck your cock, sir.”

Phil snorted as he took a step towards her. “I'll admit it is tempting. You are quite talented with that mouth of yours.” he said, taking her chin in his hand, and dragging her lips across the scratchy wool fabric restraining his hardened cock. “You want me to fuck your face until I scream your name and my come drips out of the corners of your pretty lips. And then I make you lick us both clean. You would enjoy that, wouldn't you?” he asked, his voice a little syrupy for what he was saying.

“Yes sir.” she replied softly, her words vibrating across his shaft.

“You like making me feel good.” he said, gyrating his hips to slide himself back and forth across her mouth. He felt a sneer curl his lips as he watched her fight not to react. “You like pleasuring me. Feeling useful and pleasing to me. Don't you?”

“Yes sir,” she replied again, closing her eyes and breathing in the musky smell of him.

His grip tightened on her chin pulling her away and forcing her to look up at him. “That's why you're not going to do that tonight.” Phil told her matter of factly, relishing the look of surprise that seized her features. “You said you wanted to be used. So I'm going to use you. You're going to lie here and let me do what I want with you. Or I'll tie you down and do it anyway.”

He watched the panic sink into her usually stoic features. But under that, and easily missed by a less familiar eye, was the flood of relief. 

“Color, Melinda.” he asked flatly, promising himself, for the both of them, that it would be the only time he asked that night without serious cause.

“Green.” came a broken but honest whisper.

With that, he dragged her to her feet and shoved her torso down across the bed, marveling at how easily she bent for him. She could have resisted and if he was being honest, Phil had half expected her to fight. But she let herself twist and fall over the edge of the bed with the barest show of force.

He stepped in close behind her, pinning her thighs flush to the edge of the bed with his knees. He spread out one hand across the plane of her upper back, pressing her face down into the mattress, and began to lightly drag one finger down the cleft of her ass to stroke lazily at the damp seam of her pussy. If he had any concerns about her consent, they were silenced by the wetness he found there. She was practically dripping with want, and he found that her desire only fanned the flames of his newly donned cruelty. 

He shifted his hand from her shoulder blades to the nape of her neck, gripping tight enough to bruise, he was certain. He slipped one finger into her, feeling her body take it greedily. She gasped, and clenched her teeth to bite back a moan. He worked that single digit, barely moving it in and out of her. Not curling or reaching for any of the sweet, sensitive spots he knew about. He fingered her like he would a virgin. So, so gently and carefully that it was no time before Melinda was twisting and writhing with frustration in his grip. Her delicate, deadly hands clenched in the sheets, but she was too far gone to put up a fight. She tried to arch and to push back onto his finger but he held her by the scruff of her neck, fingers sinking into her hair and twisting.

“You think I'm going to be rough with you when I fuck you.” Phil said, his voice still casual and distant. “If I fuck you...” he swiftly corrected with a sneer that drew a choked moan from Melinda. He withdrew his finger and slapped her across the ass hard enough to leave a print. “Quiet.” he snapped. “You definitely won't get my cock if you keep making noise and fidgeting.”

Melinda took a deep, shaking breath, burying her face in the mattress. Her hands were still gripping the sheets so tightly that her knuckles stood out bone white under her skin.

“So as I was saying,” Phil resumed his infuriatingly slow and methodical fingering as he talked, spreading her slick around absentmindedly with the calloused pads of his fingers. “You think I'm going to be rough with you. Mostly because you want me to be rough with you. Like you want me to be rough with you now. I'm right aren't I?”

She hesitated before answering, which earned her another slap across the ass. She nodded quickly as soon as the blow had landed. “Yes, yes sir!” she confessed, her voice high and thin.

“You want me to hold you down just like this and fuck you hard. Not caring if you come. Not caring if the bed frame leaves bruises on your hips. Not caring if you say 'no.' Isn't that right?”

Melinda nodded again, her eyes turning glassy with tears. “Please.” the word was barely audible and fell from her lips like a prayer. Phil had never heard her utter that word so sincerely. And he let her intensity and desire fuel his answer.

“No.”

Melinda sobbed soundlessly and shook as he slowly pulled his finger out of the soaked folds of her pussy. 

“Get on the bed.” Phil ordered blandly. “On your back, and spread your legs.”

She moved numbly and clumsily and Phil let her take her time. He could tell something had cracked in her. Another layer of the tightly woven creature that was Melinda May was coming loose. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his flushed and aching cock free of his underwear as he climbed on top of her.

“Hands on the head board.” he instructed, as he idly stroked himself. “You're not to move or make a sound.”

She nodded, sniffing wetly as she wrapped her fingers around the bars of the head board.

Phil crawled on top of her and without much ceremony, he lined himself up and pushed into her, grinding his teeth against the overwhelmingly hot clutch of her body around him. He smiled wickedly down at her, watching her fight for her own composure. To keep from moving or showing relief on her face. She failed spectacularly at both. 

“Interestingly appropriate way you've asked me to use to remind you of your place.” he commented, his tone far too casual for the fact that he had his cock buried to the root in her shivering body. “You on your back, completely submitted to me... so much so that you're actually holding yourself in bondage just on my order.” he nodded to her hands which gripped the headboard so tight that he half wondered if she might bend the bars. “Naked,” he licked up the line of her throat, making her gasp. “Pliant,” he gave a filthy little twist of his hips that made his cock shift inside her in ways that had her biting back tiny pleasured sounds. “All while I'm completely clothed. How very like a mirror this all is. You stripped bare and wanting and me... so far away it seems.”

Her face crumpled as he taunted her. Her hips gave little abortive thrusts that she just barely kept reined in as she held onto the headboard for dear life. He began thrusting into her, if it could even be called thrusting. He wasn't fucking her, or chasing an orgasm, or even really doing anything other than just idly sliding his cock in and out of her flushed pussy. Just for the pleasure of watching her grow more desperate and frustrated. 

And she did not disappoint. She quaked with the effort of keeping still, her lovely eyes screwed shut as she panted and writhed. Occasionally, she would thrash her head back and forth, or mouth the word “please,” though no sound ever escaped her. She was exquisite in her desperation. 

“Look at me, Melinda.” Phil said, his callous demeanor fading a little.

He had used that tone... that way that he could say her name that would stop her in her tracks. She stilled, and opened her swollen eyes. His face loomed over hers and he cradled her head in one of his hands, touching their foreheads together for a moment.

“This is me using you.” he said, referring to the maddeningly slow and filthy drag of his cock inside her. “Feel me just sliding my cock inside you. Not fucking you. Not pleasuring either of us. Just... because I can. You've always longed to be hollowed out and used, because what frightens you is that there's more to it than that. It's why this week has been so difficult for you. Isn't it?”

Another broken sob crackled through her body. She so obviously wanted to curl herself around him. To hold him and have him hold her. “Yes...” she whispered, renewing her grip on the headboard. “I don't want to have to doubt that. Doubt my place... I just want to be yours... please...”

Phil smiled then, the dark cruelty melting from his face as he leaned down to kiss her tear-soaked lips. “You've never not been, Melinda.” he assured her gently. “Let me prove it to you?”

She nodded, fresh tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. “Please,” she implored brokenly.

Phil shifted over her, angling his cock and thrusting just how he knew she liked it. He felt her gasp when he got it right, and he began fucking her in earnest. Sure, steady strokes that had her making little breathy, broken-off moans in an effort to stay silent. “Show me how much you want me, Melinda. Be loud.” he told her, and was immediately answered by a long keening moan of his name as she threw her legs around his waist. 

Only a handful of thrusts after that and she was clenching around him, arching off the bed so hard that she nearly bucked him off. It was all Phil needed. He had been on the edge since he first slipped into her. He felt his orgasm punch through him with so much force that he nearly blacked out.

He managed to keep his head together enough to roll off of her, pulling her with him as he collapsed onto the sheets beside her. They lay there in complete silence for a long time, the gravity of what passed between them not being lost in the sudden physical outpouring of pleasure. Melinda crowded herself into his arms. She unbuttoned his shirt and curled her trembling fingers through his chest hair, knuckles ghosting past the twisted ridge of his scar.

To Phil's surprise, she spoke first.

“I'm glad you're not going to Afterlife tomorrow.” she whispered, her voice ragged and tired. “I don't think it's a good idea that Gonzales is going, but I'm glad it's not you.”

“You're going.” Phil pointed out, twining a lock of her hair around his fingers.

“But I'm not you.”

“You're no less important to me.”

“Just to you.” she breathed. “And,” she cut him off before he could reply. “And even if you think I'm wrong, I don't want anything else.”

Phil nodded before leaning in for a chaste kiss. He clambered awkwardly out of the bed, the old aches of the previous days returning with a vengeance. He stripped down to his boxers and reached for the towel to clean them both up, before sharing a bottle of water with her. He found he had to steady it in her still shaking hands.

Melinda folded herself against his side again as soon as he laid down. “So how did you and Hunter manage to get on? You seem like you handled yourselves pretty well.”

“We had sex.” Phil answered bluntly, enjoying the gasp and giggle Melinda gave as she sat up to look him in the face and see if he was kidding. “We did!”

“Unbelievable.” she replied, falling backwards across the pillow laughing. “Sex in a safe-house. You dog...”

“Hey, to be fair it was his idea.” Phil retorted. “After he figured out we were sleeping together. So, he knows, by the way, but apparently, according to him, so does Skye, so it's safe to assume everyone else does.”

“I doubt everyone does,” she replied thoughtfully. “Not Bobbi, or Mack or any of the rest of Team Gonzales. Or it would have come up when I was being interrogated.”

“Gonzales interrogated you?” Phil sat up a little, frowning darkly.

“Twice. Nothing too serious. Just some theatrics.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“He tried to convince me he'd handed me a loaded gun.”

Phil snorted and shook his head. “He is a master tactician when you give him a hundred people to manage. But he's an idiot when he's trying to crack just one.”

“Yeah... He's pretty legendarily bad at it for the record. Yet another reason he shouldn't be the one to go to Afterlife.” Melinda sighed, pulling Phil back down next to her and wrapping herself around him. “I'm sorry.” she whispered, sadly. “For everything.”

“Don't be. You weren't acting out of malice. You were acting with good, albeit a little personally skewed judgment.” he answered, giving her a squeeze.

There was another long silence before Melinda propped her chin up on his chest with a wicked smirk twisting the corners of her mouth.

“So how was he?”

“Hunter?”

“Of course!”

“Let's put it this way.” Phil grinned brightly. “I owe Fury a new couch.”

Melinda let out a brilliant peal of laughter before burying her face against his chest. Phil held her tight, reveling in the feel of her body against his. When she noticed his grip, she turned her face back up to smile at him. “What?”

“You're... alright?” he asked, apprehension plain in his eyes.

She nodded, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I... it was what I needed.”

“I think it was what I needed too. At least tonight.”

“Good.” she huffed as she flopped back down around him with a contented sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
